


Three words

by redleton



Category: NCIS
Genre: F/M, Slibbs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-12
Updated: 2020-07-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:47:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25211122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redleton/pseuds/redleton
Summary: Christmas might be an ugly elephant between them. Still, it wastheirugly elephant [...] And now it had turned into a damn herd of elephants, and he briefly wondered if Esther had anymore of those paintings lying around. Hell, he would paint one himself if it made her talk to him again.In the aftermath of an unintended confession, Gibbs and Jack struggle to deal with the confusion that is their "relationship".Or: Three words, two idiots and one Doctor Grace.
Relationships: Jethro Gibbs & Jacqueline "Jack" Sloane, Jethro Gibbs/Jacqueline "Jack" Sloane
Comments: 22
Kudos: 125





	Three words

**Author's Note:**

> I just recently came back to NCIS. Last time I wrote something for this fandom was 7 years ago.  
> A whole lot of new characters to get used to, but hell I love them.  
> Not a native speaker, so bear with me. I tried my best.

He hadn’t meant to _say_ it. And when he had – he sure as hell didn’t mean for her to _hear_ it.

But Jacqueline Sloane wasn’t deaf, as much as he wasn’t prepared for her recoiling reaction and sudden departure. 

Why the words had even slipped past his lips, he had no idea.

Gibbs only remembered how her laughter had rippled right through him, the way the corner of her eyes had crinkled in delight. Some nonsense he had muttered that had made her laugh her ass off. If he cared to put his mind to it, he could still feel her soft hair between his fingers. He had no idea how his hand had ended up there. After all, they’d always sit within a reasonable distance from each other on his couch. A silent arrangement made ever since _that_ _one_ Christmas. But when he would stretch his arm just a little bit, he would still be able to reach her. He knew that now.

Then, absolutely captivated by her twinkling, brown eyes, his mouth had blurted what his brain had been thinking…no filter attached. 

It took a moment for her to comprehend what her ears had picked up on, and then she was gone – walked straight out on him, and he let her, and a sharp sense of regret returned to the pit of his stomach. The one thing he’d tried so hard to avoid with her all along.

What was left wasn’t anger or bitterness. Feelings he would welcome and expect. Instead, he felt restless, twitchy, and irritatingly aware of how much he wanted things to be the way they were before. 

He briefly contemplated calling Grace – but he shook that thought off because calling Grace would eventually mean, he had to say it again _and explain it_ . And if that wasn’t a scary thought. _Grace was scary_.

But _Jack_ had stopped _talking to him_.

At least if it wasn’t strictly case-related and the irony wasn’t lost on him, just how much he hated that. He never found her alone, there was always _someone_ around. He was thinking about ambushing her in the quiet of the evening but had let it go quickly. Sneaking up on her might not be a smart idea, considering.

She had made it abundantly clear that whatever _companionship_ they had shared had died with three simple words. And that was irony too because she’d been the one urging him to talk about _feelings_ – and Christmas. The apparent _elephant in the room_ . He thought it to be a brilliant and smug idea to give her that painting. Throwing her the most obvious hint he could come up with, that yes, Christmas might be an ugly elephant between them. Still, it was their _ugly_ elephant, and now it was open for everyone to stare at. Honestly, though, he had wished for her to bring the painting up. But she never did. And now it had turned into a damn herd of elephants. He briefly wondered if Esther had any more of those paintings lying around. Hell, he would paint it himself if it made her talk to him again.

He just couldn’t shake the feeling that Jack’s reaction to his words was off. Surprise – sure. Awkwardness and embarrassment – likely. But running away and refusing to even look at him? After all, he hadn’t asked her to move in or to marry him. Well, not that he would mind, _really_ –

Gibbs stood abruptly, and all three of his agents went silent immediately. He had no clue what they’d been talking about, hadn’t listened to any of their words for a while now.

God, he wanted to yell at someone. His body was ready to throw a fit, just to get that nervous energy out of his system – it was Torres who stared at him, eyes narrowed and prepared to fight him for whatever was about to leave his mouth. But Gibbs swallowed it down, cleared his throat, and marched past them to the elevator. 

“Who did he kill this time?” Nick pondered out loud when Gibbs was out of earshot, earning him a sharp blow to his arm from a horrified looking Ellie. 

“What?” Torres yelped in mocked pain. “He hasn’t been this distracted and _weird_ since he –“

“It’s not funny!”

They watched as Gibbs disappeared into the elevator, most likely to get a new dose of caffeine.

“I’m worried,” Ellie admitted more quietly. “Jack’s been acting weird too. She hasn’t been down here since _last week_.”

Nick looked at her and cocked his eyebrows.

“You think mom and dad are fightin’?”

McGee groaned loudly in feigned annoyance, and they both looked at him irritated. _They knew he didn’t like it either_.

* * *

Of all the things - Gibbs didn’t expect _them_ to get involved.

Both Bishop and Torres stared at him with annoyed looks on their faces. McGee a few steps short, looking as innocent as possible. Gibbs gave them his best glare, trying to intimidate them into silence and make them back off. 

“Fix it.”

So, glaring wasn’t working anymore.

“You are all over the place,” Ellie continued and waved her hands at him. He appreciated that _she_ was at least trying to sound more concerned than accusing.

“And we want Jack back,” Torres threw in. “So, whatever you did, make it undone.”

Gibbs looked between both agents until his eyes settled on McGee – the only one who had the decency to look somewhat nervous.

“Anything _you_ wanna say, McGee?”

“Uh, Delilah really likes flowers, uhm, if I need to apologize,” he blurted. “I mean she is not Jack but, uh, you know. Just saying.”

Clenching his jaw tightly, Gibbs stood, and finally – there it was. He was angry. And god, he embraced it with all his _heart_. He pulled his coat from the chair forcefully, walked from around his desk, and paused in front of his three agents.

“Next time you wanna blame me for somethin’? Get your facts straight.”

He brushed past them without waiting for a reply, not caring if they got the message and slapped his hand against the elevator’s button, a breath he didn’t know he was holding, leaving his lungs.

For once, he was glad to enter the silence of his home. His mind was set to walk straight to the boat, giving his newly rediscovered anger something to gnaw on.

If it wasn’t for Grace Confalone casually occupying his couch.

“About damn time, Popeye,” she greeted him, annoyed. “I’ve been sitting here for at least an hour, and your lumpy couch isn’t that nice.”

He sighed dramatically and pulled his coat off, throwing it in the general direction of where Grace was.

“Poker night’s canceled,” he informed her, his feet still aiming for his boat.

“Duh, I got _that_ message,” she retorted, and he heard her following him. “First, Jack texts me that she wouldn’t make it tonight, and then you call it off altogether. You got my attention, grumpy.”

His hand had already touched the basement door’s knob when he turned sharply. She was obviously taken aback by his sudden move, and he nearly winced when she took a few steps back, her eyes wide in surprise.

“What do you want, Grace?”

“What did you say to her?” she asked threateningly, poking his chest with her finger. He set his jaw tight and walked past her to the kitchen counter. If she was determined to keep him from his boat, he would at least get himself a decent shot of bourbon. “Come on - whatever it was, it can’t be that bad.” 

The mug in his hand found its way to the countertop with a loud _thud,_ and Grace jumped slightly. 

“Why is everyone blaming me, saying I screwed up?” he pressed out, turning his head sharply to her. Grace, her face professionally calm, narrowed her eyes at him.

“I didn’t say you did,” she retorted matter-of-factly. “I merely asked what you said to her, that has her so upset about you.” 

He snorted and grabbed the bottle of bourbon next to the coffee machine. She had no right to be upset - if anything, he should be upset. 

The first shot of whiskey settled him somewhat, the second ensured he wouldn’t end up throwing the fit his body was edging to. 

“You know, I do remember you used to at least offer me a drink,” Grace muttered and pulled the bottle from his hands. 

“Whad’ya want me to say, doc?” She looked at him with raised eyebrows and placed the bottle in a safe distance from him. He was even worse to handle when drunk. As much as Jack found him to be endearing like that. 

“Tell me what fell out of that mouth of yours that apparently got both of you so riled up?” she asked, her voice sounding seriously concerned and encouraging. “Let me help you?” 

“It’s … just - She’s confusing and irritating, and – _She_ kissed _me_ ,” he blurted.

“Christmas. Last year. I know,” Grace contributed. “You kissed back.” He groaned at her apparent knowledge of that particular _incident_ , rubbing his jaw uncomfortably. 

“And I tried to - to play it safe. To make sure she doesn’t end up with my mess and gets hurt. And then – “

Grace shuffled closer to him, his voice going softer with every word he was saying.

“And then what?” she urged him on. This was the most open he had ever been with her when it came to his actual feelings – not counting his meltdown months ago in a bar.

“And then I tell her –“ Gibbs paused, and Grace's eyebrows went high in anticipation.

“That she is beautiful.”

Grace wasn’t entirely sure what she had expected. It wasn’t this for sure. His struggle to express such simple confession was nearly endearing if it wasn’t for the hazardous effect it seemingly had on both – him and Jack. The latter had refused to go into great detail about what exactly he had said.

“Just like that?” she prodded on.

“No,” he huffed immediately, pressing back into the counter. “I didn’t mean to say it out loud.”

“But you _mean_ it,” she concluded matter-of-factly. He just shrugged one shoulder in defeat, his ears burning and eyes trying to look anywhere but at her. 

“She is,” he stated sheepishly. “Doesn’t matter, though. Obviously wrong thing to say.” 

For a moment, he looked so young, _boyish,_ and vulnerable that her heart physically hurt for him. Knowing both sides of the story, though, she couldn’t help the exaggerated breath that left her mouth.

“I don’t think it is about what you said, but all the possible things you didn’t say by that.” 

Gibbs stared at her for a long time. 

* * *

Jack’s fingers tapped nervously on the steering wheel, her eyes staring out front - chewing her bottom lip in deep thought. 

She hadn’t meant to leave like that. To bail out the second, the words had left his mouth. She was pretty sure he hadn’t meant to say it if his shocked expression had been anything to go by. And that too wasn’t helpful at all. Because then she was wondering about all the possible things he hadn’t said _before_. 

Jack had stopped pushing him on the topic after she had found that stupid painting on her wall. She understood his gesture as a silent offer to make the elephant a comfortable one - something they didn’t necessarily have to talk about. Because maybe there was nothing to talk about, really. _At least for him._

_You are beautiful_

Gibbs had seen her at her worst, knew the scars that marked her body. The ghosts of past memories that sometimes crept through her eyes and haunted her dreams. A man so close to her ugliest shadows and still - 

It scared her how much power he held. How much impact such simple words made when he was the one to utter them. Completely unexpected and out of nowhere.

She’d wanted to kiss him then, but she couldn’t take another _Christmas_. So she did the only thing her body had been capable of - she walked away. Quickly.

And when the following days passed, it left her breathless and uncomfortable. It never seemed the right time to approach him. There was always _someone_ around. And when their monthly poker night came around, Jack knew that there was only one way to handle that. 

Grace called her, barely a minute after her text had been sent. She picked up on the third ring, actually considering letting it go to voicemail. As if that had ever worked with Grace. 

“What did the grumpy dinosaur do?” the other woman asked suspiciously, and Jack sighed, slumping down on the couch in her office.

“Nothing,” she replied truthfully. There was a snort on the other end of the line. 

She was too tired to try and pretend. It wouldn’t matter anyway, because if anyone than it was Grace who knew just how much Jack looked forward to their poker nights. And why.

“Did he say something stupid?” 

Jack groaned in defeat and pinched the bridge of her nose. _If only he had_.

The hour-long conversation that had followed had left her even more agitated. She didn’t confess what exactly he had said, but what had made her run away like a fool. 

Grace’s sudden urge to end the call and her muttered ‘Need to go, text you later’ hadn’t helped the nervous feeling in her stomach either. 

Jack looked down at her phone on the passenger seat, the message still open.

 _Talk to him. Now._ _  
_ _Or I make you. - G_

Taking a deep breath, she left the car and walked up to the porch. The house was still lit, and it wasn’t like he’d be asleep at 2100. They usually just started dinner at that time. Jack winced inwardly at her own thoughts. Is there anything left she wasn’t automatically connecting to … _them_? 

Glancing at the door, she took the remaining steps, and her hand froze midway. It couldn’t get worse than it already was, right?

She knocked firmly, and for the first time since that hurricane, she waited for him to open the door. It took another knock before she saw the outline of him, and her heart clenched in nervous anticipation.

The door swung open, and there he was. He was already down to comfortable sweatpants and a simple Marine shirt, staring at her with a stone’s face, not a single hint of what he was thinking. He didn’t make any indication of letting her in either, and she cleared her throat. 

“I’d like to talk. _Please_?” 

He huffed and shifted his weight. “And I thought you gave up on that.”

She looked at him pointedly, her eyes not leaving his. “You didn’t seem too keen on it either.”

He still didn’t move. “Last time I said something, you walked out without another word.”

Jack shrugged and raised her shoulders helplessly. This wasn’t going too well.

“I didn’t come here to run away, Gibbs. Let me explain.”

He was still looking at her blankly, and for a brief moment, she thought that this time she wouldn’t be able to talk her way into his home. But then he stepped aside and gestured for her to enter. 

Jack walked into the warmth of his house, her feet naturally carrying her to the couch. She let herself down on the right side of it - the one that had gradually become _hers_. Gibbs made it a point to stand a few feet away from her.

“Why are you sleeping on your couch?” she asked, pulling at the white sheets that covered it.

He shrugged, his eyes on her expectantly. There was a pregnant pause.

“You came here to talk,” he reminded her, and the slightly taunting tone in his voice wasn’t lost on her.

“I made a mistake,” she offered. His eyes darted away from her. “Would you sit down with me?” She saw the flex in his jaw, the battle he was fighting with himself. 

He shuffled over to the couch and sat tensely, his elbows resting on his thighs. He still refused to look at her.

“You took me by surprise, you know? And I freaked out, obviously.”

“ _Obviously_ ,” he repeated slowly, finally looking at her. 

“I didn’t mean to hurt you, and I’m sorry.” He eyed her carefully. She nearly expected him to throw his famous rule at her, but he didn’t.

“You said you wanted to explain, not apologize.” 

She pressed her lips together, and his eyes slipped down to her mouth for the briefest of seconds. And he knew that she saw _that_.

“I’m not saying I didn’t like what you said,” she quietly continued. “It’s just...when someone you really like - _a lot_ \- says something like that...it means so much more.”

He was still unmoving, his eyes slowly blinking, and his brows creased as if he was trying to figure something out. She reached out to him, her hand softly covering his cheek. He softened at the contact and leaned into her touch.

“And honestly, I don’t think _liking you_ is even close to what I feel.” 

He ducked his head and sighed.

“I’m tired, Jack.” Her hand fell at his words, but he quickly covered it with his own, holding it in place. “It scares me… how much I want you to be with me.” 

“Scary can be exciting,” she whispered. 

This time, Gibbs made the first move and closed the distance between them to press a chaste kiss to _her_ lips. A second one, and a third until his hand pressed into her neck, and he deepened the kiss, fierce with every emotion he couldn’t find words for. It was a mix of groans and gasps that followed. He pulled her into his lap, and god forbid, she was a goner. She pressed into him, her hands roaming his chest, up to his shoulders. 

“It’s been some time that someone said that to me…the way you did,” Jack whispered, her eyes locked onto his blue one’s. “And I realize that I really, _really_ like to hear you say it.”

She felt his hands on her back, one of them slipping under her shirt. Feather-light touches itching higher and higher until his palm pressed down on the scarred skin. She swallowed the lump in her throat at his touch, uncomfortable at how ridiculously exposed she suddenly felt.

“You _are_ beautiful.”

He said them more firmly than he had the other night. When those three words had taken them both by complete surprise. 

She pressed closer, her hips settling more firmly against him, lips ghosting over his.

“Wanna do this right,” he murmured against her, both their breaths heavy. Jack leaned away from him, her hands slowly tucking at his shirt. He looked completely disheveled, his hair tousled from her ministrations, and his pupils dilated.

“I really think doing it right involves a lot of touching,” she suggested, and she quickly learned that he didn’t seem too opposed to the idea after all.

* * *

“You gonna make a move or not?” Tobias asked in an annoyed tone, earning a subtle jab of an elbow to his ribs. Grace glared at him and shook her head pointedly.

“Some things need time, _Toby_.” His knowing smirk went unnoticed by everyone else.

Leon shifted in his seat, looking between Gibbs and Jack, the last of them to play.

“All-in if you are,” Jack announced suddenly, holding her chin high in confidence. Gibbs looked up at her, the corner of his lips twitching in amusement. “Or are you scared, _Gunny_?” 

“You sure you wanna’ go down that route, _Lieutenant_?”

“Oh, Popeye, we all know she _knows_ exactly what she’s gettin’ into,” Grace supplied eagerly, and held her hands up in defense when both glared at her. Leon cocked a brow but resisted to comment.

“We still talkin’ about poker?” Tobias asked incredulously. Grace shushed him dramatically and pointed to their friends.

Gibbs pushed his remaining poker chips to the middle of the stack and looked at Jack expectantly. 

“I’m right with ya, Sloane.”

She waited – prolonging the moment of truth. It was the third poker night in a row that they both ended up last at the table and hell if she would lose _again_. And the stakes were even higher tonight.

He had challenged her, and she was determined to collect. _Later_.

Jack placed her cards on the table, slowly and with her eyes firmly locked on his.

“You so gonna lose this one, Gibbs,” Tobias grinned and leaned back in his chair. 

His eyes twitched, and she knew he wanted to look. She mouthed the words’ Straight Flush’ at him, and his eyes glanced down to his own cards. When he looked back at her, she saw his lips curl into a smile and his eyes’ twinkle.

Jack squealed in victory and jumped from her chair, lunging herself at him in pure joy. Her arms wrapped around him from behind, and he finally joined her laughter.

“I knew it!” she exclaimed happily. Gibbs put his cards down next to hers, for everyone to see, and a collective round of Finally's and laughter followed.

He could feel Jack’s face pressing close to his, her arms around him, tightening in pure delight. His hands wrapped around her arms, enjoying the warmth radiating from her. God, he loved her excitement and happiness whenever she would win a hand over him.

She put a chaste but firm kiss to his cheek, and he knew it was only for their company that that didn’t end on his mouth. Speaking of…

Gibbs looked up Jack still pressed close to him, one of her hands playfully ruffling his hair. Three pairs of eyes were staring at them, the sudden silence louder than before.

Jack straightened and cleared her throat, heat rising to her face. She patted his shoulders awkwardly and shuffled back to her chair. Grabbing her bottle of beer, she downed most of it in a long gulp.

It was Tobias, _of all people_ , to break the silence.

“Well, at least you don’t have to hide her anymore,” he shrugged with a glint in his eyes. “Whenever one of us comes over… _unexpectedly_ … say, on a Sunday afternoon.”

Jack nearly choked.

  
  
  



End file.
